


The Kids are Alright

by O4amuse



Series: The Odd Jobs [3]
Category: Leverage, Supernatural
Genre: Children of Characters, Established Relationship, Gen, Next Generation Winchester(s), Wayward Daughters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6665656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/O4amuse/pseuds/O4amuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MJ Spencer is determined to ace her anthropology degree, hunt monsters, and find a boyfriend who isn't a complete idiot, thus proving that the modern woman really can have it all. </p><p>If only the universe, and her dads, would cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Means No

MJ sighed as she heard her name being called. She should’ve known Ryan would follow her from the party. He’d asked her out at least once a week since the beginning of the semester, getting increasingly pissed off when she turned him down. He seemed to think being on the Varsity football team, plus blonde hair and a square jaw, automatically got him into any girl’s knickers.

  “Hey, I said wait up!” he yelled, breaking into a jog.

  She turned reluctantly. “The ‘no means no’ memo totally bypassed you, didn’t it?”

  “If at first you don’t succeed -”

  “- sit down before you hurt yourself.”

  He grinned. “If I couldn’t take a bit of pain, I wouldn’t play quarterback.”

  “You don’t have the braincells left to register the damage.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a complete bitch?” 

  “Only to people I don’t like.”

  He nudged her in the ribs. “You totally like me.”

She gritted her teeth, reigning in the instinct to break his arm. She’d gotten a lot better about not freaking out over uninvited people in her personal space - she’d had to, if she wanted to spend any time in college bars - but that didn’t mean she was okay with deliberate physical contact. The impulse to attack had been trained into her from a very young age and letting anyone touch her when she didn’t want them to was a major exercise in self-restraint. She knew that, if either of her dads were here, Ryan would currently be breathing through a brand new set of broken ribs. 

  “MJ…” He reached for her shoulder.

  She spun away, fists rising. “Back off, Ryan.”

  He smiled again, stepping closer to make her look up. “Come on, babe, play nice.”

  “Jesus Christ, I am Not Interested. What part of that concept are you struggling with?”

She’d asked her aunt for advice soon after Ryan’s pushiness became a problem, but Parker pretty much always defaulted to industrial-strength tasers. At the time she’d thought that was overkill; she was seriously beginning to reconsider. 

  “Just a kiss,” Ryan insisted, sliding his hands around her upper arms and gripping tightly. “I know you want to.”

  She inhaled deeply through her nose. “D’you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in if you don’t step away right now?”

  He snorted. “Your cousin’s a stringy geek.”

  “Luke’s a lot tougher than people think,” she said. “But I didn’t mean him.”

The vampire chose that moment to leap out of the bushes, fangs bared and bloody. It was tall, thin and pale, dressed only in a ragged black coat and leather pants. Long filthy hair straggled across its shoulders, and its bare feet were with caked in dirt. 

  Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You got one of your goth friends dressed up like halloween to try and scare me?”

  She took a step back and folded her arms, grinning. “I really didn’t.”

The vampire looked, to MJ’s expert eye, a little confused. It was probably used to people screaming and running. It grabbed Ryan, moving with unnatural speed. He gave a high-pitched yell as it squeezed his throat, and flailed ineffectually. 

  “Fuck! Get him off me!”

  The vampire snarled at her. “Flee, little girl, and I might spare your life.”

  “Seriously?” She put her hands on her hips. “Who even talks like that?”

For a moment - a brief nano-unit of a moment - she was tempted to let it bite him. He’d been increasingly asshole-esque and she wasn’t a saint, far from it. But there were very clear rules about humans and monsters, and she really didn’t want to face Uncle Sammy’s patented Look of Disappointment. 

So instead she drew the slender machete from it’s hidden sheath under the back of her jacket, kicked Ryan sharply in the crotch, and took the vampire’s head off with a smooth swing that clipped the very tips of Ryan’s hair as he catapulted forwards. It bounced onto the path with a sick little squelch and rocked, dripping black. The body collapsed heavily, sliding off Ryan’s back to land in a heap next to him. He stared at it with shock-white eyes, jaw open, and then up at MJ. 

  “You killed him.” 

  She wiped the machete off on the body. “I could’ve let it eat you.”

  “You fucking killed him!” Ryan staggered to his feet, hands still clutching his groin. “Stay away from me, you fucking psycho!”

  He waddled away at speed, and she looked down at the vampire’s head. “Thanks, dude.”

Then she dragged it off the path and set fire to it, watching the flames catch with a satisfied air. All in all, it had been a productive evening.


	2. MJ Phone Home

MJ got back to the house a little before midnight. The downstairs light was on, which meant Luke was still up. Although not strictly cousins, she and Luke had grown up together. He was more like her occasionally annoying brother and best friend. The family really only agreed to their Stanford adventure because they were going together, and had all pitched in to buy the house so they _stayed_ together. Plus it was easier to ward the crap out of private property than out of student accommodation.

She opened the front door (biometric print reader on the handle), stepped over the lintel (embedded salt line) and into the hall (wards artfully incorporated into the mural decoration). Luke was in the front room (devil’s trap rug filling the floor space), hunched over his laptop. Ryan had called him a stringy geek but that wasn’t really fair. He was slender rather than stringy, with a runner’s muscle tone. His skin was a warm chocolate and his neat dreads were dotted with silver cuffs (engraved with sigils). Definitely a geek, though.

  “Hey,” he said, not looking up. “Everything okay?”

  “Got the vampire.”

  “Nice. Uncle Eliot phoned. I said you'd call when you got in, but it's probably best to try the bunker first. He and Mom were doing something in a nuclear facility and needed tech support. Apparently Pop was a bit tied up."

  “That what you’re doing now?”

  “Huh?” He glanced up and she nodded at the laptop. “Oh, no, it only took a minute. I have an essay on the effect of a fall in the Savings Ratio due tomorrow.”

  “Sounds riveting.” She flopped into the armchair opposite with a sigh. “Why are guys such idiots?”

  “DNA,” Luke said apologetically. “We can't help it.”

  She threw a cushion at him. “Not you, you muppet. Civilians. They're like whiny children.”

  “Ryan again? I'll hack his Facebook account if you like.”

  “Nah, it's sorted. I just wish I could meet someone who isn't a total dick, y’know?”

  “Good luck with that. We're ruined for normal people.”

  She scowled at him. “When are you getting a girlfriend, anyway?”

  “Screw you and your heteronormative lifestyle,” Luke said cheerfully. “I’m in a committed relationship with my Warcraft avatar.”

  MJ let her head fall back. “Uncle Alec must be very proud.”

  Luke’s phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil... Hi.” Then he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.       

  “‘I am your father’?”

  “The day he stops doing that, we can safely assume he’s possessed.” Luke sighed. “No, Pop, we were talking about you, not to you. You want me to what? Well, obviously I know what a Heartbleed virus is but that’s, like, 2014. They’ll have patched the shit out of it by now. Whatever, hold on.”

  MJ stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

He gave her a distracted smile, fingers flying across the keyboard. She wandered along the corridor to her room (sigils, salt, shotgun under the bed) and turned the shower on in the en suite, running the water until it steamed before getting in. The smell of smoke and undead swirled away down the drain, along with the irritation of Ryan’s continued pursuit.

She assumed it had mainly been fuelled by her continued refusal. She wasn’t bad to look at - green eyes and good hair, in decent shape - but she wasn’t exactly the type to stop traffic either. Ryan’s slighted ego surely wouldn’t win out over fear. With a bit of luck, the issue was over. Her reputation might take a bit of a hit if he talked about her psychopathic tendencies, but she’d never given a crap about that. Reputations were for people with social lives. Between her course, her track training, and the occasional hunt, she barely had time for sleep.

Her cell rang as she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a big fluffy bathrobe (a gift from Sophie) and slightly steaming. She put it on speaker and began brushing out her hair.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “One minute past twelve. Happy birthday, sweetheart.” There was a muffled shout of ‘happy birthday’ in the background from Uncle Sammy.

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s it feel to be legally permitted to drink beer?”

  “Fractionally less fun than drinking it illegally.”

  “Risk junkie.”

  “Enabler.”

  “Mm. You don’t need me to enable you. Apparently you’re totally capable of finding trouble on your own.”

  “Huh?”

  “I hear you hunted a vampire on campus tonight. On your own.”

  MJ frowned. “Have you got Cas keeping an eye on me?”

  “I know what’s out there, sweetheart.”

  “Dad! You were hunting solo when you were my age.”

  “Only because your grandpa didn’t have access to heavenly oversight. You get your very own guardian angel.”

  “I’m sure Cas has way better things to do with his time.”

  “He don't mind.”

  “I’m sure,” MJ said through gritted teeth, “that he can _find_ better things to do with his time.”

  “Mary Johanna Spencer,” Dad said in his serious voice, “you are the best damn hunter there is, but you’re also my daughter and that means you get every protection I can possibly give you. I don’t care whether you like it or not.”

  “This is the safest apartment in the history of housing!” she objected. “I don’t need to be spied on as well.”

  “Don’t think of it as spying. Think of it as aerial support.”

  Something about his tone made her hesitate. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. Can’t I simply be concerned for your welfare?”

  “Dad.”

  “Dean, just tell her,” Uncle Sammy said in the background, sounding impatient.

  Dad sighed. “Look, it’s probably nothing. There’s been some weird rumours coming out of Sacramento lately, that’s all.”

  “What kind of weird?”

  “Not sure yet. Sam’s looking into it. I’ll keep you posted, I promise. But until we know what’s going on, Cas'll be keeping a closer eye on you two. And ease up on the Buffy impressions, okay?”

  “If I’m Buffy, Uncle Sammy is totally Giles.”

  Dad gave a bark of laughter. “I heard that!” came a yell in the background.

  “If the shoe fits,” he called back. Then there was a muffled commotion of new voices. “Hang on, your father just came in.”

  “He okay?”

  “No obvious bleeding. El, get over here! MJ’s on the line.”

  A brief pause, and then a deep, weary voice said “Happy birthday, princess.”

  “Hey, Daddy.” She flopped back onto her bed, smiling. “I heard you broke into another top secret facility. Is that a full set now?”

  “Parker keeps finding more. Did you check under your pillow yet?”

  “No?”

  “We had Cas drop something off for you when he was checking in.”

  “Which, by the way, is still not okay.” She rummaged under her pillow and came up with an A5 padded envelope.

  “Suck it up, sweetheart,” Dad drawled. “Could be worse - I could’ve got Sam to move there and keep an eye on you 24/7.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Don’t push me.”

  She shook the envelope out into her lap and stared at the electronic fob. “Oh my God. A car? You got me a car?”

  “It’s a Chevy pick-up,” Dad said. “Not exactly in Baby’s league, but it’s solid. I tuned it up, put in some warding, false trunk bottom, the usual. You can pick it up this weekend.”

  “I take it all back,” she said, clutching the key joyfully. “You guys rock.”

  “There’s conditions,” Daddy growled. “Don’t get caught on speed cameras. Tell one of us before and after any long drive. And quit hunting on your own.”

  “Luke’s busy,” she objected.

  “No. I don’t put up with this crap from your dad and I’m not putting up with it from you. If Luke can’t go, you can’t go. We clear?”

  MJ gave a long sigh but she knew when not to push her luck. “Clear.”

  “That’s my girl. We’ll see you Saturday.”

  “Night, sweetheart.”

  “Night. Love you.”

She put down the phone and climbed into bed, slipping the car key under her pillow next to her Bowie knife. Her parents might be a bit intense sometimes but really, all things considered, they were pretty awesome.

   Her last thought, drifting off to sleep, was: _Now I can hunt all the way up the west coast._

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving kudos. It makes writers happy. :-)


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